


Do You Always Do What You're Told?

by gala_apples



Series: If Love is a Mixtape [7]
Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Break Up, F/M, Letter, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-11
Updated: 2012-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-03 11:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John writes a letter to Bobby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Always Do What You're Told?

**Author's Note:**

> If Love is a Mixtape... then life is the tracks you listen to. (each story was written while listening to one song on repeat, for however long it took. In the case of side A track 5, that means a 3 minute song on repeat for about 6 hours. *head bash*)
> 
> Side B: John  
> Track 2: Audioslave- I Am The Highway. The first fic I ever wrote in this fandom, in 2003.

Hey Bobby.

Maybe it’s not the best idea in the world for me to send this. I felt I had to though. Mystique mailed it for me, isn’t it wonderful when you have a shape shifting friend to go into places that might be being watched? Not that you'd know, your friends get by on brute strength, not intelligence and cunning.

It also means you can’t write back to me, which is good. It’s my turn to speak, my turn to be important.

Tell me, or rather, don’t tell me, seeing as you won’t speak to me, can’t, and wouldn’t as a matter of principle. But tell me, do you believe in metaphors?

This group I’m with now, they do. There’s this guy named Homer who’s taken me under his wing. He hasn’t revealed his mutation yet, but he likes to read, and especially Shakespeare where everything means something else. He’s taught me it. The human language is a lot more expressive than most people think.

So, if I told you ‘long and weary my road has been’ what do you think that would mean? I can hear you saying to me, ‘you’ve had a rough drive.’ Well that would be wrong, do not pass go, do not collect 100 dollars. You probably wouldn't actually say that, you were always one for doing perfectly in class. I'm sure you read Shakespeare when you were six, in your college prep nursery, before your college prep elementary, before your college prep junior high. 

What it means, is it means I’ve had a crappy life. Everyone knows poor old Rogue almost killed her boyfriend. Put him in a coma for three weeks. And you, Bobby Drake, until recently, your parents thought you were at a college prep high school. You didn’t have conflict. I grew up in Austrailia. Ever wonder why I ended up in upstate New York?

Killed my parents, I did. Well, grandparents. Can just see the look on your face. I bet you’re stunned. Then slowly you start to realise, well, this is the St. John that went to the dark side, no wonder he did, he’s already killed people. It’s not exactly what you think. Never knew my dad. Ran off before I was born. Mom was a junkie, got blamed for my fire starting abilities. There's no difference testable by a firestation between a fire started from mutant powers, and a fire started from a lit crack pipe falling on the carpet.

That’s why I was so happy when I told off your dad at your house. I’m the way I am, not because of a druggie mother, but a deadbeat father. May seem like a small difference to you, but I care. So, after she was sent to rehab for the third time, my grandparents picked me up. Stayed with them until I was 14. Then mom got ‘clean’ and she wanted ‘the son she loved more then anything’ back. They marched me over to her apartment, which surprisingly, wasn’t filthy. But I knew the second she got me back, she would start again.

My grandparents, who both tried to beat the firestarter in me out, for years had told me I was filthy, and the devil’s tool, hadn’t had the chance to tell mommy dearest there was something unnatural about me. She would have known anyway, half the time it was my mind shaping the heat for her pipe. I walked in the door, and could smell cinnamon candles. I could smell the tiny stream of perfumed smoke coming off them, and I could feel it writhing in my stomach, something telling me what exactly I had to do. I let it loose, and before I knew it, my grandmother's synthetic fibre dress was melting to her. I ran out of the house, and as far as I could. I got lost, but that was ok, its not like I had a person to find me anyway. 

Then Cyclops picked me up, and I was with you. And Cypher, and Poitr, and Jubilee, and Kitty. But mostly with you. And that was cool, that was awesome, to be friends with you, to actually HAVE a friend. And the other things too, that was nice. That was more then nice. To quote from you, actually, it was ‘oh my god, oh my jesus *pant* jesus *pant* *moan*’ I'm laughing at you right now, but I suppose you can't tell.

Then, then she came along. And you stopped. And then we were at Alkali Lake, and you were supposed to come. You went after me, then Rogue said we were supposed to stay here. I looked at you, and said, ‘you always do what you’re told?’ Do you remember the first time I said that? I bet you do, I can't forget. Those words were used the first time we met. Not actually met as in introducing each other to each other, but met in sex, and in wanting, and passion.

It was after a fighting session, after class. I was in the showers, and Cypher had just left, meaning I was the last teen in the room. You came in, you had wanted to talk to Cyclops for a second, so you had taken longer. You had beaten me in wrestling, and I was upset, I had always been bad tempered. I walked over to you, barely aware I was naked, and told you I wanted rematch. You said fine, tomorrow. I kicked you in the chest, and said no, right now. With a stunned look on your face, you told me that no horseplay was allowed in the showers. I asked you if you always did what you were told, and you didn’t respond, so I hit you with a left uppercut.

Then you hit me, and I was smaller then you, so I went down, but I pulled you down with me. You and I rolled around on the tile floor, each trying to get the upper hand. I got even more mad and upset, because having you naked on top of me was making me hard, and I didn’t want you to know, but I knew you would feel it. 

You reached down and held on firmly to the semi-erect, horribly-embarrassing-to-a-14-year-old, goddamn-thing-between-my-legs-Bobby-wasn’t-supposed-to-know-that-I-cared.

Then you hissed into my ear, ‘Scott yelled at us all after one of the little kids got candle wax in the drain and stuck in the plumbing. He told us that the only thing allowed down the drain from now on was water and soap suds.’

I whispered hoarsely. I could barely talk from the excitement of the first time it wasn’t my own hand. ‘Do you always do what you’re told?’

You pumped me, it didn’t take more then a few strokes, I was so thrilled and hard, and spilled down the drain. ‘Not always.’

So, on the plane I said, 'do you always do what you’re told'. I thought you would remember you used to love me, not her, you loved me for two years before she came to the school. But you did what you were told. I guess I should have expected it, when I asked the first time you did say ‘not always’ instead of the ‘never’ I would have said had I been asked the question.

So I stood on the hills, and I was alone. You were in the jet, with HER, and I was alone. Then that alarm went off, and I was still alone. I was in unbearable agony, and I bet you anything you were holding her hand.

So, when I had the opportunity to go off with Magneto and Mystique, two people that appreciated me, and didn’t think I was Satan, thought I was a god, I did. Do I feel sorrow? Hell no. What was there for me anyway? You now had Rogue, so I wasn't there for you. And was I there to become an Xman? I’ve never been one for helping anyone and not getting anything back. Maybe I was brought up wrong, but in Grandmother and Grandfather’s house, if you wanted help, you have to chop trees later, or wash the floor. And I don’t see any ‘victim’ giving me money, or buying me a copy of the latest cool cd. No one gets something for nothing, not from me.

And do I want pity? Do I feel pity? What do I think about pity in general? I don’t want it, Jubilee lived in a mall for gods sakes. I just had shitty grandparents. Do I feel it for leaving? That would be a no. Like I said, there was no reason for me to stay. You have each other now, and I’m just moving on.

Besides, there’s one good thing about going with a bunch of strangers, versus people I’ve lived with for 5 years. I know wherever I’m going, people like you aren’t waiting. You think you’re my friends, but you’re all liars. You tell the younger ones the world is fair, and no one is innately cruel. Well, Magneto said they put the ones they caught in an electric cage, so if they touched the walls, they got shocked. Magneto is one of the most blatant men I’ve ever met. If he thinks you suck, he demeans you in front of the rest, instead of saying that he thinks I can do better. That’s much healthier then always lying, you know.

Of course, because mother nature is a sucker for balancing everything out, there’s one bad thing about leaving. No matter how far I go, I could go a million miles, but I still feel like I’m too close to you. I used to love to be close to you, but now, now that I know you love her instead of me, I can’t get far enough away. There are too many memories of us to ever be able to get away from you.

Remember the field trip to the farm? And they had those tractors, with tires the size of cars themselves? Do you remember your nails gouging at the rubber as you tried to muffle your screams? Well, I am not your rolling wheels, I am the highway.

Or remember when you traded rooms with Poitr, so you could share my room? And you dragged in that hideous carpet that Ronny had macraméd for you at camp? And as you were lying it on the floor, I tackled you, and you rode me and I got rug burn and had to seen Jean Grey? Well, I’m not your magic carpet ride, I’m the bloody sky.

Or when we were in the plane, and Storm started the blowing wind, so the planes following us would blow up safely away? And you looked at me, looked me in the eyes, and you were flushed, and you had that this-is-so-dangerous-it’s-such-a-rush-god-do-I-want-to-fuck look in your eyes. Well, I’m not the wind, I’m the lightning.

But my favourite memory was the all the times we went into the woods. But you picked Rogue. So, I’m not your autumn moon, I’m the night.


End file.
